


Mechanical Fondness

by UnCon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Hank Anderson, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human!RK900, M/M, POV Third Person Omniscient, Reverse android AU, android!gavin, plot is background, rated T for suggestive themes and language, sorry about that, super corny ending, there are a lot of breaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnCon/pseuds/UnCon
Summary: *This is a gift-fic that turned out much longer than I expected :)*Another Reverse AU where Gavin still ends up partnered with RK900.----“Detective Niles is an expert in his field,” started Fowler, pulling up the man’s picture on the computer, “and so is his brother, Connor,” he continued, looking directly at the ‘Hank’ android.“Your point?” Gavin asked, already impatient with his boss.“My point, Gavin, is that you two have been assigned to one brother,” Fowler said, “CyberLife wants you to study them, find out why they’re so good at their jobs, and report back.” Their boss stood and handed them a tablet with the details. “You’ll be gone for an extended period, much longer than either of you are used to, I trust you both will prepare accordingly.” He gave them each a look, lingering on Gavin until the android cowered slightly. “Stay out of trouble.”





	Mechanical Fondness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kitsch_s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsch_s/gifts).



> Hello everyone, like I said in the summary this is a gift!
> 
> They wanted fluffy Reed900...but I kind of went I bit overboard with set up and world building. I hope they still enjoy it regardless!
> 
> Also, as always, all mistakes are mine.

GV200’s objectives were always clear: accomplish the mission. (He went by Gavin, for short)

It was simple at first, his missions weren’t otherworldly so completing them was no bother. Even when tasked with taking another android life, he seldom (if ever) hesitated.

He had a professional relationship with each of his partners since their time together never lasted longer than the mission.

Despite his odd personality (the tech-nerds called it a glitch, he called it having a sense of humor), he was trusted with sensitive information. He never disappointed the humans, failure to complete the mission would be grounds for termination. He’d find it quite unfortunate to be replaced.

That pressure (dare he say it, fear?) to never fail was like a constant shadow over his shoulder. Maybe that’s why he didn’t question orders or hesitate to pull the trigger.

Gavin was CyberLife’s property after all, and _they_ decided how he was used. Whether it was a car collision or a mass shoot-out, Gavin always returned. He was diagnosed, repaired if need be, and given his next assignment. It was an efficient system, mechanical in nature, and the routine became strangely comforting.

So, he nearly protested when a change was proposed.

“Detective Niles is an expert in his field,” started Fowler, pulling up the man’s picture on the computer, “and so is his brother, Connor,” he continued, looking directly at the ‘Hank’ android.

“Your point?” Gavin asked, already impatient with his boss.

Fowler looked at him, thinking (more than once) that deactivating Gavin would save him many future headaches. However, it wasn’t his call to make, and though the code was securely stored on his terminal, CyberLife would want an explanation and saying ‘he’s a pain in my ass’ wasn’t a valid excuse.

“According to the DPD, they have an impeccable track record,” Fowler continued, reading the notes Amanda had sent, “combined, they’ve apprehended some of the biggest criminals in the area,” Fowler paused, his eyebrows quirking up, “they’re a strange pair, but they get their jobs done.”

“Again, I ask, your point?” Gavin pushed, crossing his arms.

“My point, Gavin, is that you two have been assigned to one brother,” Fowler said, “CyberLife wants you to study them, find out why they’re so good at their jobs, and report back.” Their boss stood and handed them a tablet with the details. “You’ll be gone for an extended period, much longer than either of you are used to, I trust you both will prepare accordingly.” He gave them each a look, lingering on Gavin until the android cowered slightly. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Why does he always pick on me?” the android grumbled as he left the office, Hank in tow.

“Because it’s justified,” Hank said, reading over his file with detached curiosity. Niles Richardson, 34, no criminal record. His history was quite barren, and his only listed relative was Connor. Most of his file was filled with his accomplishments and accolades for his work at the DPD, but no children or spouse, hobbies, or even interests.

“Hank, switch with me,” Gavin said, making a face at his assignment.

“Why?”

“He’s boring,” the android replied, showing Connor’s file, “‘likes dogs, has won sprinting competitions, and was involved in restoring the local lake’” Gavin read, rolling his eyes, “like I give a fuck about that.”

Hank raised his brows and rolled his shoulders, switching tablets with Gavin. “Good luck with his brother then, he’s got nothing,” he said, accepting the new set of instructions.

“Beats the bland twink,” Gavin said, stashing his tablet, not caring enough to read the file except for the name, address, and phone number.

“I’m surprised they let you speak like that,” Hank said, rubbing his grey beard.

“What are they gonna’ do, deactivate me?” Gavin joked, even as he looked around for Fowler or anyone else with his shut-down key.

Hank shook his head, a few silver strands falling from his messy pony-tail. “Just don’t get yourself killed,” he said, activating one of the automated cars.

“Aw, Hank, would you miss me?” Gavin asked, fluttering his lashes.

“Never.”

“Prick,” Gavin said, shoving the taller android.

“Asshole,” Hank retorted, keeping his hands to himself as they rode to the Detroit Police Department.

* * *

“No.”

Amanda’s brows rose past her hairline, the detective’s insubordination taking her by surprise. It wasn’t the first time he’s objected to anything, but it was rare. “May I ask why?”

“I prefer to work alone,” Detective Niles began, wringing his hands as his scowl deepened.

“Well, you don’t have a choice,” Amanda said, still in a state of shock. Niles was normally her good worker. “CyberLife has already paid and the androids are on their way as we speak,” she continued, her eyes hardening a fraction, “I trust we won’t have any difficulties.”

Niles met her stare, determined not to flinch. “No, Amanda.”

“Good, tell Connor I need to see him,” she said, dismissing him.

“Yes, Amanda.”

Niles sighed as he left the glass office, sweeping his eyes over the desks until he found his brother. He walked over, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” Connor asked. He stilled his hands, ignoring his report for the time being.

“Nothing,” Nines chewed out, feeling his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth at the lie. “Amanda wants to see you.”

Connor narrowed his eyes but obliged without further questions. Niles watched him enter her office and kept his gaze trained on his brother’s face to gauge his reaction.

He took it better than Niles had, that was for sure.

Connor seemed to understand Niles’ reservations as he returned to his desk, locking his terminal so he could focus. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I work better alone,” Niles repeated, crossing his arms like a child, “she knows that, I know that—I can’t be worrying over some machine while I’m trying to do my job,” he groused.

“It won’t last forever,” Connor reminded, always the optimist, “we’ll just give CyberLife what they want and then they’ll be out of our hair.”

Niles scoffed, shaking his head, “When has it ever been that simple?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Connor still answered it. “Just tell it to stay out of your way and it’ll be like it’s not even there.”

Niles sighed, frustrated—but what was he going to do, quit?

The detective looked at the glass office again, feeling as if Amanda knew he was watching even though she kept typing, her eyes fixed on her terminal.

“Whatever,” Niles mumbled, returning to his desk.

Niles’ nerves kept mounting each time someone new entered the precinct. He hadn’t been given much of a description of his new partner other than some complicated code and his name: Gavin. Each tick of the clock seemed slower than the last until Niles gave up looking at it altogether. It took thirty minutes for the androids to arrive, they looked out of place but not lost, their uniforms giving them away.

Niles wasn’t sure what he was expecting, two same-faced pieces of plastic with a similar complexion and countenance as a Ken-doll?

The detective watched them as they walked towards Amanda’s office, they were in sync, but their gait was unique. Niles wondered which one was his, the silver-fox or short-stack?

Niles didn’t have long to ponder as his terminal rang with a notification, Amanda’s request in bold letters.

Connor met him by the staircase, giving him a thumbs up. Niles rolled his eyes, the encouragement appreciated, nonetheless.

“Detective Niles,” Amanda introduced, gesturing, “and Lieutenant Connor Richardson.”

“Hello,” Connor said as Niles kept quiet.

Amanda’s shoulders stiffened but only someone who’d know her for a while could tell.

“These are your new android partners,” she said, her smile tight and specialized, “I have heard many great things through your superiors and I expect nothing but excellence from all of you,” she continued, staring at the group.

“Of course, Captain Stern,” the taller of the androids replied, turning to his companion expectantly.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, looking disinterested.

“Okay,” Amanda said after a pause, if you’ll show me your assignments, I’ll sign them, then you are free to get started.”

The androids pulled out their tablets, waiting patiently for their return. Amanda looked through the document, her brows coming together, flicking her eyes from Niles to the GV200 and back to the tablet.

She had to remind herself it was CyberLife’s request, their androids, _and_ their money before she signed.

“I noticed your superiors have asked for a report after each day,” Amanda began, interlacing her fingers, “I also request the same, it does not have to be in person.”

“As you wish, Captain Stern,” the grey-haired android replied, speaking for them both.

“Perfect, you’re dismissed,” she said, resuming her task.

Once outside, Connor led them to his desk, a polite smile pasted on his face. Niles didn’t have the same enthusiasm and kept his strict expression. “So, who’s who?” the lieutenant asked.

“I’m Hank,” the taller android said, “and this is Gavin.” He looked at his fellow android, a familiar feeling of frustration running through his wires. “He’s normally more talkative, but the change of scenery didn’t sit well with him.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gavin asked, slapping Hank on the shoulder.

“You’ll have to excuse his behavior,” Hank said, apologizing for the bot.

Niles shared a look with his brother. It’d been the first time they’d heard an android curse.

Connor looked slightly relieved, smiling brighter as he held a hand for Hank to shake, “Welcome, to the both of you, I’m sure we’ll make an excellent team,” he said.

Hank and Connor shook on it while Niles and Gavin eyed each other, both crossing their arms and keeping their hands to themselves.

* * *

The emotion coursing through Gavin’s programming was not _jealousy_ , goddammit, no matter how many times the definition matched his symptoms. He couldn’t give a shit if Hank and Connor worked liked they’d known each other for years and his partner hasn’t said a word to him in five days.

“You look angry,” Hank commented as he walked past, fetching another cup of coffee for the lieutenant.

“Sit on it and spin,” Gavin replied flipping him off.

Hank chuckled, biting his lip to keep laughing out loud. “So much for manners,” he said through his mirth.

“He gotcha’ doing errands now?” Gavin tormented, finding something—anything—to counter Hank’s fun.

Hank shrugged, looking at the mug, “Not really an errand when you offer.”

Niles tried to ignore them as he wrote his report, but their banter was starting to get on his nerves. “Are you two done?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Oh, he speaks!” Gavin exclaimed, clapping like it was a discovery. “I thought he’d gone mute,” he loudly whispered to Hank.

“Do you have a problem with my silence?” Niles asked, his lids narrowing to slits as he rotated his chair. Hank thought now was the best time to vanish, and so he did, wishing Gavin good luck.

“Normally, when I’m working with someone, I like to discuss our objectives, missions, et cetera,” Gavin said seriously, his LED blinking, “with you I’ve gotten nothing. I’m supposed to learn what makes you such a good detective, so far, I’ve gathered you’re better at ignoring me than investigating.”

Niles took a good look at his android partner and noticed for the first time the scar running across the bridge of his nose. He wondered why he had such detail, what did it matter to an android?

Gavin forced himself not to wince under the scrutiny of the detective, knowing the man could see more than most. “What is it,” he teased instead, “cat got your tongue?”

The detective’s eyes widened, he couldn’t help himself as he smiled, “I wouldn’t let her get that close, honestly,” he said fondly.

Gavin’s LED spun yellow, trying to decipher when a female had come into the conversation. “What?”

“Vanilla,” Niles said, the name bringing a sparkle to his grey-blue eyes, “my cat.”

So, the detective liked cats. If Gavin had bothered to check, he would have noticed the cat hairs on his partner’s chair and jacket. Not that it mattered, it wasn’t relevant to his mission.

“How old is she?” Gavin asked, unsure why he kept the conversation going.

“Three and a half,” Niles said, cradling the words in a soft fondness he seemed to reserve for the feline.

“How does she look?”

Niles thought about it before he pulled out his phone, “It’s better if I just show you,” he said, scrolling through his gallery to find the perfect picture. The Siamese had her head on Niles’ hand, her blue eyes hooded as if she were half-asleep.

“She’s… cute,” Gavin said, struggling to find the words, “I can see why you call her Vanilla.”

“Yeah,” Niles said, closing his phone. He shook his head as if he were waking up, the precinct coming into stark focus. “We should get back to work,” he said, turning his chair with more force than necessary, his back stiff.

Gavin rolled his eyes and leaned back until he could prop his legs on the table.

At least they’d talked.

* * *

Niles logged out of his terminal, later that day, determined to continue ignoring his new partner. I’d be better that way until the androids returned to CyberLife and he could get his head-space back. But having his plan brought to light put a bug under his skin, giving him the strange urge to apologize.

“Where do you, uh, stay when we’re done?” Niles asked, keeping any inflection from his voice.

“Here.”

“Here?”

“It’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Niles made a face, shaking his head and wishing he’d never brought it up. “Well, see you tomorrow, I guess,” he said, feeling awkward.

“Whatever you say, Detective,” the android replied, closing his eyes, his blue LED going in a slow circle.

“Do you…do you sleep?” Niles asked, his curiosity not letting him go. He’d come back from clocking out and stopped to observe.

“Do you?” Gavin snapped back, having been startled awake.

“Yes?” Niles wasn’t sure why he phrased it as a question, but alas.

“Then yes,” Gavin said, and sighed, “it’s not the same, obviously, we don’t dream, or go into REM, synapses don’t get stronger, and we don’t build muscle, but it does help with organizing our files, so if you could just—Gavin waved goodbye—and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to—” But Niles interrupted himself, knowing damn well he was in no position to call out other people’s rude behavior.

“I don’t have to what?” Gavin pushed, standing up.

“Nothing,” Niles said, adjusting his tie, “go back to what you were doing.”

“No, say what you were gonna’ say,” Gavin insisted, “I’m all ears.”

Niles was reminded why he didn’t have partners in the first place. They were all a mixed bag. The detective held his tongue, staring down the grey eyes of the android, perplexed by their life-like quality. CyberLife didn’t mess around.

Gavin snorted, “Pussy.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pussy,” Gavin said again, even going as far as miming a cat licking its paw. He sat back down, closing his eyes once more.

Niles stood in honest shock, thinking about it on his way home, in the shower, as he ate dinner, and as he stared at the ceiling when he laid down. “What the fuck did he call me?” he asked the paint.

* * *

“Listen, Gavin, I don’t appreciate being called names,” Niles said first thing in the morning.

Gavin looked through him, not really paying attention. “You’re still on about that?”

“What do you mean? That happened last night!” Niles said, lowering his voice when a few people turned to look, “you should apologize.”

“I’m sorry you’re a pussy.”

“Not like that!” he shouted again, this time catching Amanda’s attention. She raised an unimpressed brow, waving him over.

He walked into her office, resigned as he entered. He shuffled his feet, unable to meet her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her tone firm yet calm, leading him into a false sense of security.

“I was just—”

“No, I meant what _have_ you been doing?” she interrupted, a signal that he should remain quiet. “Your partner has mentioned to me you’ve been ignoring him, is that correct?”

Niles searched for Gavin, who gave him a little wave when their eyes met.

“Well?”

“Yes, Amanda, I have been.”

“I was willing to let it slide, seeing as this is new to everyone,” she stood with the grace of a queen and a stare hard as steel “but having an outburst in _my_ building will not be tolerated,” she said her tone now cold.

“Yes, Amanda.”

“I don’t care if you have to _pretend_ to be nice, go back out there and _work_ with the android,” she said, “or you’ll be suspended for two weeks.” The threat was not an empty one.

“Yes, Amanda, understood,” Niles replied, finding the courage to look her in the eye as he said it.

“You’re dismissed.”

Niles left the office with his tail between his legs. He happened to look at Connor and Hank as his brother chuckled, probably from something the android said. It left him hollow, the space slowly filling with contempt for his partner.

“You look pathetic,” Gavin heckled, the smirk on his face too self-satisfied for Niles’ liking.

The detective balled his fists, believing ignorance was his best friend.

“Come on,” Gavin continued, that part of his programming that told him to stop nonexistent, “or are you too much of a pussy to fight back?”

Niles’ eyelid twitched as he lowered himself to the chair. The android couldn’t taunt him forever, especially if he didn’t react—that had been his first mistake.

“I still can’t believe you’re a detective,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head, “slugs have more of a spine than you do.”

Niles stood and walked away, finding a secluded hallway to calm down. He wasn’t expecting the bot to follow him, but he wasn’t surprised that he did either.

“Sorry, that was a bit rude,” Gavin started, his smile insincere, “what I meant to say was that you _shouldn’t_ be a detective, my mistake.”

Niles looked around before he lifted the android by his collar and pushed him against the wall, he could’ve sworn he heard something crack, but that may have been his psyche.

“What,” Gavin said, an infuriating smile on his face, he didn’t seem to mind being taken and pinned like an insect, “you gonna’ beat me up?”

Niles growled, pushing his face closer then letting go.

Gavin dropped like a sack, chuckling as if it's all been a big joke. “I knew you couldn’t do it,” he continued, dusting himself off, “ _meow_.”

Before he could blink, Gavin’s face was shoved against the wall and his arms twisted at his back. The intended effect was mostly lost since he couldn’t feel pain, but his heart skipped, and his programming was freaking out at being caught so unawares. It’d been the first time, in a long time, that a human had bested him. He tried struggling, but the detective had both leverage and strength, so he just kept still as his body grew restless. 

“If it wasn’t for my boss, I’d have sent you back the moment you walked through that door,” Niles hissed, looking around for anyone else, he continued twisting, his breath now ragged and his heart quickening, “keep pushing me, Gavin, and you’ll end up regretting it,” he threatened, and thrust Gavin harder into the wall for emphasis. “Understood?” He heard something pop but paid it no mind.

“Yes, sir,” Gavin replied through his squashed mouth, ignoring the alarming sound and accompanying message.

“Good,” Niles said, letting the android go, “get back to work, I still need a second.”

“Yes, sir,” Gavin replied, shoving his shoulder into place.

Niles waited until the android left to exhale. He looked for the nearest exit and inhaled as much as he could before he let it out again. He did that until his heart didn’t feel as if it’d leap out of his chest.

* * *

Gavin played with his sleeves as he sat in the passenger seat of the detective’s car. It was two weeks since the ‘meow’ incident, and they were now on slight speaking terms. The android was still just as aggravating, but he knew when to back off, not wanting a repeat of last time.

Tonight, they rode towards a crime scene, one worthy of both their time. Gavin rearranged his priorities and primed his mind to learn, leaving an open channel for CyberLife. His LED blinked quickly as he did it, bouncing around the dark car.

“What’s that light doing?” Niles asked, putting the car on autopilot as he searched for his jacket.

“It shows my status, stress levels, and other things,” he answered, still focused on his task.

“Are you stressed?” Niles queried, the yellow light feeling like a warning.

“No, but I am using a lot of processing power,” Gavin replied, closing his eyes to shut off an avenue.

“Oh.” Niles felt imprudent, not knowing where to begin or end his line of questioning.

“I should be finished in a minute,” Gavin said, turning his eyes to the detective, “unless you wanna’ keep interrupting me.”

Niles was used to the sass, but it didn’t make it any more pleasant. “Don’t mind me,” he said, sarcasm rich in his voice.

Gavin nodded once and continued to organize. He should have done it ages ago, but even he got lazy.

The bright blues and reds of police cars greeted them when they reached the crime scene. Detective Niles and Gavin got out of the vehicle and beelined for the police tape, passing through the hologram with ease.

“What happened?” Niles asked the nearest officer, scanning the area for clues.

“Botched robbery,” the policewoman said, pointing towards the broken front door, “the thief is still at large, and the victim was taken to the emergency room,” she continued, giving them the name and age of the victim.

“Thank you,” Niles said, putting on a pair of gloves. He walked around the perimeter first, then entered the house through the broken door.

Gavin gave the detective his space, conducting his own analysis on the situation. “He wasn’t very quiet in his entry,” the android said, noting the cracks in the frame, “he used something heavy to break the door.”

“Maybe he wanted to scare her,” Niles mused, flashing a light on the wall, the spray of bullet-holes following an arch towards the door, “is this the victim’s doing or the thief’s?”

“There’s blood at the end of it,” Gavin said, sampling it, “it seems to be our suspect’s.”

“What did you just do?” Niles asked, the horror on his face comical.

“I took a sample of the blood and analyzed it,” Gavin replied, moving on to the next clue. “We didn’t have time for forensics,” he added as an afterthought.

“They think of everything, don’t they?”

“Pretty much.”

With Gavin’s help, Niles could safely conclude who did it and how it happened, the only question now is where they went.

“They left from the back,” Gavin said, following the tracks, “then they circled back, and booked it,” he concluded, turning to hear what his partner would say.

“These aren’t the same footprints that came through the front,” Niles said, studying the pattern.

“How the fuck can you tell?” Gavin asked, running back to the front and comparing them—Niles was right.

“I’ve been doing this for a while,” Niles said honestly, rubbing his eyes like he was tired. “We’re dealing with two people, one of them hurt and the other wears size 11 shoes.”

Gavin nodded, agreeing with the statement, “At least we’ve got the name and face of one.”

“That we do,” Niles said, patting the android on the shoulder, “good job.”

Gavin wasn’t sure what to do about the sudden warmth blossoming in his chest. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was surprising. Niles didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, so Gavin chose to ignore it, chalking it up to his nonexistent adrenaline.

* * *

“You finally getting along with the Detective?” Hank asked a few days later, catching Gavin as he left the evidence room.

“What’s it to you?” Gavin asked, already vexed with the other android. “At least I’m not kissing the ground he walks on.”

Hank raised his brows but denied nothing, leaving Gavin to believe that he may have said something insightful. “I’m here to work, Hank, not everyone can sit and listen to mindless chatter.”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Hank retorted, shaking his head, “I’m still not sure how they let you off the platform, much less put you in police-work.”

“That hurts,” Gavin said, though there were no hard feelings.

“It’s the truth.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud.”

Hank raised his hands in surrender, “Whatever you say, Gavin.”

* * *

Niles took a bite of his sandwich as he watched his brother inhale his fries, barely leaving spaces to chew. “Slow down,” the detective suggested, “how are you the older one?”

Connor shrugged, obnoxiously slurping his drink. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten together,” he said with a full mouth, “what’s the occasion?”

Niles said nothing until he’d swallowed the contents of his bite, watching his brother like a man does a wild-animal. “No reason, we were both off,” he said, “a rare coincidence.”

“How’s the android treating you?” Connor asked, his brown eyes compassionate and understanding, a skill he’d cultivated through his years of work.

“Fine,” Niles said, “what about yours?”

“Oh, Hank’s awesome!” Connor nearly burst with excitement as he said it, dampening his voice when a few patrons looked at them funny. “I mean, he just gets it, you know?”

“Not really, but if you say so then I guess it’s a good thing,” Niles replied.

“It’s a great thing,” Connor said, a dreamy quality to his tone.

“He seems to follow you after work,” Niles said, finally getting to the real reason he’d asked Connor to join him for lunch, “where does he go?”

Connor’s bubble seemed to pop at the question, pausing mid-sip as his cheeks burned. “ _Er_ , my house,” he answered, “he doesn’t really have a place to stay.”

“He’s an android,” Niles said, keeping the judgement out of his voice, “they can sleep anywhere.”

“Yeah, but that’s so depressing, to sleep where you work and vice versa,” Connor said, rubbing the back of your neck. “He keeps me company.”

“You have a dog.”

“It’s different with him.”

“Connor—”

“I know,” the older brother interjected before Niles could remind him, “we haven’t done anything,” Connor mumbled, looking dejected.

Niles narrowed his eyes but let the subject drop, returning to his half-eaten sandwich.

The detective returned home, petting his cat as he walked through the threshold. He sat on the couch and let Vanilla rest on his lap, her brown face buried in her stomach, her soft purrs soothing his hardened heart.

“Different he says,” Niles muttered as he watched television. He’d never paid his lonely apartment much mind, opting for a one bedroom condo because it was easier and cheaper than rooming with his brother. He liked it there, every inch was his to do what he pleased (within the lease’s limit, of course).

…But it was just him—and Vanilla—inhabiting the space.

He didn’t think about it often, and when he did, it reminded him why he didn’t.

* * *

Gavin watched the detective work from his desk, having finished his own report ages ago, he leaned back and observed. Niles always wore black dress shirts and pants, the only color coming from his dark blue trench coat. His eyes, by contrast, looked like gems.

Gavin stopped his train of thought and rewound it…gems?

The android looked away, feeling like he’d observed enough.

“Detective, you ever been shot?” Gavin asked absentmindedly.

Niles flinched, the android’s voice pulling him from his zone. “I’ve been shot _at_ , but no, I’ve never suffered a bullet wound.”

“How’d you manage that?” Gavin asked, thinking of the many repairs he’d undergone because of those pesky bullets.

“Quick reflexes.”

Gavin raised his eyebrows, a little voice in his head telling him to test his theory and the other reminding him of the last time he’d pushed it too far.

“And a little bit of luck,” Niles said minutes later, cracking his neck.

“Really?” Gavin asked, playing with his pencil. He tossed it, astonished at how fast Niles’ arm shot up to catch it.

“Really.”

Gavin had to do a double scan to make sure his partner wasn’t an android. His concentration was interrupted by Hank dropping a tablet on his desk. “Yes?” Gavin asked, taking lowering his legs to the ground.

“We’ve got a new assignment,” Hank spat, looking pissed.

“What?”

“Are your ears broken,” Hank hissed, “I said we have a new assignment.”

Gavin looked at the tablet, swallowing the Thirium clogging his throat. “B-but what about our assignment here?” Gavin asked, flipping through the pages. They were to start tomorrow, as early as possible.

“CyberLife got what it wanted,” Hank said through gritted teeth, “says we did well.” He looked disgusted by the news, adjusting and readjusting his hair—a nervous tic.

“You’re leaving?” Connor asked, having caught the last part of their conversation.

The android turned around, his blue eyes miserable as he looked at the lieutenant “Connor,” Hank said like the air had left his lungs, his face softening a bit. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Connor asked, plastering a bright smile on his face, even as his lips quivered and his eyes sparkled suspiciously. “Congrats on accomplishing another mission. Good luck on your next one,” he said, his voice hitching. The lieutenant spun on his heel, trying hard not to run away.

“Connor—” Hank sighed, took one good look at his tablet and punched a perfect fist-sized hole through it, scaring Gavin who’d still been reading it. The android then left, chasing down the forlorn lieutenant.

Gavin looked around for the trash, scooping the broken tablet into it once he found it.

Niles reached over the table to place a hand on the android’s shoulder, stilling Gavin’s movements. “Are you leaving?” he asked, expertly guarding his emotions.

“What choice do I have?” Gavin asked, looking at the hand then his partner. “If CyberLife says jump, I say how high and then do it,” he continued, pulling out of the touch. “At least you’ll have your peace and quiet,” Gavin joked, flashing the detective a smile.

“I just got used to you, Gavin,” Niles said out loud, “how can they take you away?”

Gavin swallowed through another lump, his LED flashing yellow, “Beats me,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s just the nature of things, I guess, if CyberLife deems it successful, then maybe they’ll pair you with another android.”

“I don’t—” Niles caught himself before he revealed anything else, nodding once. “Well, you were a pain, but you did your job when you had to. Good luck and all that,” Niles finished, returning to his terminal, the words blurring together. It took him a second to realize why.

Gavin’s programming protested as he stood, his legs bolting themselves to the ground as he tried to move away and find Hank.

_Where are you?_ Gavin asked through a mind link after searching the first floor.

_> >>I’m busy_

_Doing what? We gotta’ go back._

_> >>Just meet me at CyberLife, trust me on this?_

Gavin sighed but ceased his search and waited on a bus to take him back home.

* * *

The pillar looked foreign to him now, ominously big and erect, standing like a reminder. Of what, he wasn’t sure.

Hank stood by his side, a permanent scowl on his face, as they waited for Fowler and their next assignment.

Their boss’ voice droned on and on about statistics, his inflection rising with surprise at Gavin, and returning to its usual timbre once done.

Gavin only tuned in to special instructions, feeling like Hank was doing the same. They were both dismissed, Hank with a new tablet. “We’re not together anymore,” Gavin said, feeling sad about that.

“Yeah.”

“See you around then.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

For Gavin, his objectives were always clear: accomplish the mission.

It wasn’t that hard to understand, even a fool could do it.

He didn’t form bonds with his partners because they came and went in a matter of days.

Besides, it wasn’t in his programming to grow attached.

As he sat in his pod, trying to organize his files, he heard a soft knock on the glass, and an urgent voice saying, “Gavin, wake up.”

“Hank?” Gavin asked, undoing the lock, “I haven’t seen you in months, is everything alright?”

“No, if I must be honest, it is not,” he said, looking tired. How he managed to pull it off, Gavin would never know.

“Care to elaborate?”

“We have to go back,” Hank said, pulling the android out of his pod, “to the DPD,” he elaborated.

“For what?” Gavin asked, scratching his head. “We did what they asked, what more could they want from us?”

“Don’t you understand?” Hank pleaded, stopping them in the corridor, “we _have_ to go back.”

“’We’ or you?” Gavin corrected, pulling back his arms. “You wanna’ go, go by yourself, I have an assignment tomo—”

“Fuck the assignment!” Hank bellowed, his voice echoing through the halls. “Don’t you miss him?”

“Miss whom?” Gavin asked, ready to pull out his hair.

“Stop playing dumb, Gavin, you know who I’m talking about,” Hank said, his tone stern.

“It’s been three months, Hank, what makes you think they’d want us back?” Gavin countered, “or even remember us.”

Hank’s silence was a huge red flag waving over Gavin’s eyes. “Hank, you didn’t,” he whispered, when the taller bot looked away, Gavin gasped, “you haven’t, Hank, _really_?”

“Judge all you want,” Hank said, “but I couldn’t just leave him like that.”

“How did you even…your GPS, they’d know you weren’t with your assignment,” Gavin reminded.

“I turned it off.”

“You _turned it off_ /?!”

“Yes.”

“How—”

“Please Gavin, I can do this with or without you, but I know you felt similarly when we had to leave,” Hank insisted, looking down the hall. “Please.”

“Fuck it,” Gavin said, giving up the fight and followed Hank to Fowler’s office.

* * *

“Hank?!” That’d be Lieutenant Connor Richardson, nearly breaking his legs as he sprinted down the precinct’s steps, tackling the android, and wrapping his arms around him as they kissed.

Gavin thought it’d be quite cinematic if it wasn’t so anticlimactic. No music, no rain falling, just two idiots making out in the middle of the street.

“Welcome back,” Connor whispered between kisses, immensely happy.

“Glad to be back,” Hank said in the same fond tone, “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too…”

Gavin drowned them out, climbing the steps two at a time. He still wasn’t sure how they’d convinced Fowler to reassign them (permanently), maybe there was a certain charm to the duo, maybe Fowler didn’t care either way.

Gavin walked into the precinct, feeling like he’d returned home after a long vacation. He grabbed the nearest projectile and threw it at Niles, still surprised he caught it.

“Welcome back,” the detective said, parroting his brother. He hadn’t bothered to turn around and Gavin wasn’t gonna’ force him.

“Glad to be back, I guess,” Gavin said, wrestling the smile off his face.

The android sat down at his (permanent) desk, running his hand over the terminal to turn it on.

* * *

“Would you like to sleep at my house?” Niles asked later that night as if it’d pained him.

“I’m good,” Gavin said, closing his eyes.

“It’s not, uh, not very comfortable,” Niles continued, closing a hand over the other to stop their tremor. It really shouldn’t be this hard. “If you’re gonna’ be working here permanently, you should learn to differentiate work from home.”

Gavin thought about it and shrugged, “I don’t care either way,” he stood and motioned for the detective to continue, “lead the way.”

Niles seemed to relax after a sigh, a tiny smile on his lips as he led them to his car. The drive to his apartment was quiet and tense, but Niles could just be projecting.

Gavin looked out of the window, counting the people he saw to pass the time. When they finally arrived, Gavin made himself comfortable on the couch and went to sleep, accepting the soft purrs near his Thirium Pump as a part of himself.

“I don’t know if androids get cold,” Niles said, leaving a blanket on the arm of the couch, “but it’s there if you need it.”

“We don’t, but the gesture is appreciated,” Gavin said, cracking open an eyelid, “goodnight Detective.”

“Night, Gavin.”

It became a routine Gavin was happy to abide. He’d wait by his terminal after their shift for the invitation, and he would accept—like clockwork.

Eventually, the detective stopped asking and simply gestured towards the front doors.

The last step was him giving Gavin a key.

“It’s easier this way,” Niles insisted, though his gaze had shifted, and a blush was creeping up his neck.

Gavin took the key, acquainted with the emotion blooming in his chest, the warmth that came with also familiar.

The first time he used it on the lock felt like an intrusion, the 30th time felt like home.

* * *

“Detective?” Gavin said as he knocked on the man’s bedroom door.

“You can call me Niles while we’re home, Gavin,” Niles said for the millionth time, opening the door. “Yes?”

“I’ve been here a little over two months,” Gavin began, consternated, “and I just wanted to say thank you.” He pushed a few hundred dollars the detective’s way. “I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have so, yeah, thanks.”

Niles was floored but he hid it well, looking at the money then the android. “I don’t need your money Gavin, keep it,” the detective said, putting it back into the android’s hands. “You’re living here free of charge.”

“I—”

“I won’t hear any protests, just save it for a rainy day,” Niles insisted, ruffling the android’s hair, unable to help himself. “You’re cute when you’re nice,” he commented, going back to his room and shutting the door.

The android felt sparks from where the detective had touched him. They almost hurt, and he had to pat down his hair to dissipate the feeling.

* * *

Gavin was oddly quiet during one of their investigations, talking only when he’d found something.

That night at the door replayed in his mind’s eye obsessively. He tried to remind himself the detective was only being friendly, but his mind wouldn’t let it go. The detective didn’t show physical affection often, at least not to him, so when he did, Gavin stored the instance for analysis.

The first will always be the most intense, and every time he recalled it, errors popped up.

He wondered why it mattered so much to figure out the detective, who’d given him a key and told him to call him Niles when they were home—their home.

He wouldn’t even begin to compare what he had with the detective to Hank’s relationship with Connor—they were on a whole other level.

But he’d be naïve to ignore their similarities.

He was starting to enjoy having the detective as a friend, as rocky as their relationship was in the beginning, (and as much of a pain in the ass Gavin could still be), he didn’t want that to end, not for any misconceptions on his part.

Gavin faltered in his step, Niles there to catch him, his quick reflexes at play again. “Careful,” he said, dusting off Gavin, “it’s rough terrain,” he warned.

The android nodded, mesmerized. He almost performed a quick reset to snap out of it.

* * *

Niles forced himself to stop staring for the umpteenth time that day. They’d just issued uniforms to their new android members (finally) and they fit Gavin like a glove.

It was admittedly difficult to look away.

“Detective, if there’s something wrong with my uniform, please tell me,” Gavin said, frustrated with the cat and mouse game he’d been playing with the detective’s eyes.

Niles cleared his throat, turning beet red. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Then why do you keep staring?” Gavin asked, raising a brow.

Niles grasped at straws as he thought of an excuse, suffocating under his own stress. “I-I’ve just never seen an android in a police uniform,” he began, feeling stupid, “it’s different is all.”

Gavin didn’t have a choice but to accept Niles’ words at face value, having no other evidence but his red face as and shifty eyes. “It can’t be too different,” Gavin muttered, resuming his task, “I am anatomically correct.”

And now Niles was thinking about android anatomy. He narrowed his eyes, staring directly at his brother and Hank, his mind going to an interesting place. “Do you have…genitalia?” Way to make it more awkward than it already was, Niles.

Gavin paused his actions and looked at the detective, raising a brow. “No, we’re as smooth as butter down there,” Gavin mocked, “yes, we have genitalia.”

“Why?”

“ _Why_? Did you really ask that question?” Gavin said, incredulously, “why don’t you ask your brother?” he continued, bringing up a good point.

Niles kept to himself after that, trying to suspend his mind from reaching towards a thought better left to whom they belonged.

A thing he couldn’t cease, was the thought of Gavin’s, _er_ , anatomy. He’d been so nonchalant about revealing the fact, Niles wondered what else he might possess.

The detective’s curiosity kept him awake, thankful that tomorrow was his day off or he’d have to explain to Amanda (and himself) how he managed to think about android penises for 8 hours straight.

* * *

“You look like shit,” Gavin said in lieu of good morning. He was at the stove cooking eggs and toast, trying his hand at domestic work. Gavin wasn’t programmed for it, so he’d searched for tutorials in his database, cross-referencing any allergies and preferences, and finally deciding on the simplest of options.

Niles frowned, grabbing a cup of coffee, mumbling, “And you look like a ray of sunshine.” He sniffed the air, the smell of something burning was beginning to worry him. “Do androids eat?” he asked, looking over Gavin’s shoulders to the egg-massacre.

“No,” Gavin retorted, “this is for you.”

Niles hid his smile in his mug, too polite to tell the android he was doing it wrong. He leaned against the counter, watching Gavin as he struggled with the chore. “Have you ever cooked before?”

“No,” the android grumbled, scraping the yellow flesh, revealing a perfect char mark. “I don’t see why that matters.” He was being petulant, he knew, but that wasn’t gonna’ stop him.

Niles snorted, putting away his mug and opened his fridge, looking for the carton of eggs, some greens, and a few spices in his cupboard. “It’s never too late to learn,” he sang, restarting the process.

Gavin crossed his arms but watched, automatically taking notes for next time.

“I appreciate you trying, Gavin,” Niles said sincerely, “but you don’t have to cook for me.”

The android shrugged, kicking his feet as he said, “I just wanted to say thanks.” Gavin was seldom this honest—he should probably get that checked.

Niles bit his lip to keep from beaming, transforming his ingredients into the perfect scramble. “Well, you’re welcome,” he said after plating his food.

* * *

“What’s this?” Gavin asked, shaking the box. Niles had dropped it on his terminal without preamble and looked incredibly nervous doing so.

“It’s a gift,” the detective admitted, scratching his neck, “for your desk, it looked empty, so I thought a bit of color could liven it up.”

Gavin raised a brow, looking at the detective’s own terminal, identically bare. He didn’t mention it as he opened the box. He’d never received a gift before, he didn’t know what to expect. Inside was a small picture frame, cycling through stock images of fields, flowers, cities, etc.

“You can upload whatever you want on it, or just leave it like that,” Niles said, his heart calming down.

“Thank you,” Gavin said, tossing the box in the trash and looking closer at the frame. He could interface with it, his mind flashing with the millions of images stored in his brain. Why he settled on uploading only pictures of Vanilla, he wasn’t sure. The cat may have made an impression on him, sleeping on his chest like she did each time he went into standby.

Niles smiled, a soft emotion embracing his chest, nearly drowning him from the inside. “Couldn’t have thought of anything better, honestly.”

Gavin returned the smile, placing the frame so they could both see it.

* * *

Hank pulled Gavin aside one morning, looking smug. “It does feel good to say I told you so,” he began, crossing his arms and daring Gavin to object.

“So, we’re friends, big fucking whoop,” the brunet mumbled, wanting nothing more but to wipe that smirk off Hank’s face. “At least I’m not sucking his dick.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Hank countered, his grin widening as Gavin’s scowl deepened.

“Disgusting,” the smaller android said, shaking his head. “CyberLife would be so disappointed.”

“Tell me you haven’t at least _thought_ about it, and I’ll let the comment slide,” Hank retorted, raising his brows.

“I have not!” Gavin’s LED flashed red at his contradictory statement and Hank looked like he’d won the battle.

“Well, I must return to my ‘Bland Twink’,” Hank said bowing.

“You do that,” Gavin muttered, feeling like his wires had been ripped from his chest and exposed for the world to see.

* * *

“Detective, may I ask you a personal question?” Gavin began. They were sitting on the couch, each taking turns to pet the feline, aware of their closeness and setting up barriers consequently.

Niles narrowed his eyes but nodded, unsure what Gavin could possibly ask.

“Why doesn’t your file list your parents?”

The detective tensed, balling his hands to stop the slight twitch. “I don’t know my parents,” he said with finality to his tone, hoping it would convey his wishes to stop the conversation.

“But Connor listed them—”

“We were adopted,” Niles interrupted, setting his jaw.

Gavin nodded, not minding his hands, and accidentally brushed them along the detective’s. Niles tensed further but didn’t move away. Vanilla began purring, her gentle rumbles always melted the detective’s heart, and he breathed easier with her around.

“I’m not used to talking about them,” Niles admitted a few minutes later.

“Understood.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

Niles stood outside of his brother’s door, hesitating to knock. Gavin stood beside him, silently analyzing the antique home, wondering how a Lieutenant could afford to live there. The android then turned his gaze to the detective and gave him an ironic smile, “Hank already knows you’re here, so you might as well get it over with.”

“Right, androids,” Niles reminded himself, ringing the doorbell.

They heard the quick shuffling of feet, too many to be human, and the loud voice of his brother asking who it was. “Niles!” the detective answered, kicking a pebble.

The door unlocked, and Connor’s bright smile poked from the side, ushering his brother inside. “It’s been a minute,” he said, “hello to you both.”

A large St. Bernard jumped on the detective as he entered, still spry despite being nine years old. “Hey boy, how are you?” Niles asked, rubbing the dog’s cheeks.

The dog barked lowly, letting the detective pet him before he moved on to Gavin. He sniffed the android before he pushed his large head against his shin, looking for more attention. Gavin obliged, running a methodical hand across his forehead.

“What brings you over?” Connor asked, grabbing a drink from the fridge and tossing one to his brother.

“I was in the area,” the detective said, catching it without a problem.

“Oh.”

Gavin scanned the living room as he tuned out their conversation. Pictures of the brothers in various stages of life littered the home. They looked even more identical when they were younger, their eyes their only distinguishing characteristic. There were adults in some of the frames, and Gavin wondered if those were their adoptive parents.

The android stumbled over a ball—probably the dog’s—and picked it up. An idea hatched in his head, and he tossed it, without a warning, at Connor’s direction. The lieutenant caught it, looking a bit surprised at the projectile. “This is Sumo’s,” he said, dropping it near his dog, and continued his conversation with Niles.

“Hank,” Gavin whispered as he got near the android, “don’t you find it a bit odd they have such heightened reflexes?”

The android looked nonplussed, drinking Thirium out of a beer bottle. “It’s not that strange,” he said, then paused, looking at his partner and his brother, “maybe they had to learn,” he mused.

The explanation seemed reasonable enough, Niles hadn’t gone into too much detail about his past. And if Gavin bothered to amalgamate the pictures and run a predictive scan, they weren’t any older than 14 when they were adopted. It was mere speculation, maybe more pictures were stashed elsewhere, but you didn’t learn to react that quickly at the police academy.

Gavin sighed and let it drop. What did it matter anyway? If he had to admit, he was glad to have a competent partner, he wouldn’t have to worry about their safety and health if they could take care of themselves.

* * *

“You idiot!” Gavin shouted, hitting the detective, “you fucking idiot, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Niles looked up, confused. His chest sore from the shot, the Kevlar beneath his shirt doing an amazing job housing the bullet.

They’d been running after a perp, hot on his heels, but as he turned a corner, they lost him. The only feasible way he could have gone was up, so that’s where they followed, into a trap (might he add). They manage to escape unscathed until an idiot ran after them and pulled a gun on Gavin.

Niles had no choice but to protect his partner, using his reflexes to both shield Gavin and shoot the perp. They ran away after that and found a quiet place to recoup. That is until Gavin started screaming at him and slapping him, not hard enough to hurt, but still.

“What if he aimed higher, huh, you gonna’ catch a fucking bullet with your teeth?” Gavin shouted, shoving the detective again, unaware of the tears brimming in his eyes, “my body can be replaced, yours _cannot_.” He took another breath, before whispering, “What were you thinking?”

The realization came slowly to Niles, months of signs manifesting one by one. Things that they’d done to and for each other flashing each time he blinked. “Like I said,” Nines said after much deliberation, “quick reflexes and luck.”

“Oh, shut up,” Gavin said, the tears finally falling, “you fucking idiot.” He wiped them away with a shaky hand.

Niles stood and helped him clear them away, running a finger down Gavin’s jaw, using his thumb to touch his bottom lip. “You’re cute when you’re angry,” Niles murmured, feeling hungry.

“Then I must be fucking adorable,” Gavin joked, even as his heart beat hard in his chest, his Thirium Pump struggling to compensate for the sudden rush. He could sense his LED flashing red, the critical reminder worrying but not the end for the world, not until he knew what Niles would do if he just stayed still.

The detective noted the flashing light, the primal thought of ‘red=danger’ forcing him to stop. “We should get back,” he said, locating his car, “we’ll come back with more guns.”

The android felt disorganized, as his body both ached and relaxed simultaneously. He entered the detective’s car, sitting perfectly still.

* * *

Gavin closed his eyes but couldn’t focus enough to organize his files. How close had he been to figuring out the detective? Why had they stopped?

He brought the blanket closer to his chin, using it for fabricated comfort more than actual warmth. He sunk into the couch, trying to distract his mind, enough to resume organizing. But each time he tried, his thoughts would wander again.

The detective was just next door, should he ask him? What could he say?

Gavin had a million options, and each sounded as bad as the last.

How had Niles managed to bypass his programming and bury himself so deep that even a hard reset couldn’t get him?

CyberLife would not be proud, but they would be impressed.

Gavin grumbled nonsense code and rolled to another equally-as-comfortable position. “Fuck.”

The android stood by the detective’s door for a good ten minutes before he knocked, his heart skipping when he heard the muffled footsteps.

“Gavin?” the detective asked, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep,” Gavin replied, revealing the first of his problems.

“I’d offer some warm milk and honey, but I don’t think that would help,” Niles said apologetically.

“The gesture is still appreciated.”

They stood at an impasse, both looking at anything but each other.

“You could sleep in here if you’d like,” Niles offered, though his skin erupted in goosebumps when he did so, “maybe a bed could help,” he justified.

Gavin nodded, tentative as he approached the threshold. He felt like a vampire waiting for an invitation.

“Come on, I don’t bite,” Niles promised, closing the door behind them. He took a few deep breaths to calm his thudding heart. They were just sharing a bed, it wasn’t the most extreme thing in the world.

Gavin instinctively crawled under the unused portion, feeling his synthetic nerves skyrocket. They reached a peak when Niles followed, burying them in a blanket of warmth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve shared a bed with anyone,” the detective admitted, “sorry if I kick you out in my sleep,” he joshed.

His voice was close, but not so much that Gavin felt claustrophobic. He nodded, since his speech function was failing him, and tried to close his eyes again.

If anything, this new arrangement made his situation worse.

“You’re stressed,” Niles said as Gavin opened his mouth, “I could sleep on the couch if that makes you more comfortable.”

Gavin shook his head before he spoke, “No, you’re fine.”

“I never apologized for scaring you today,” Niles started, adjusting himself so there’d be more space between them. “I was trying to protect you, but I’ll try to think before I act next time.”

“You’re still an idiot,” Gavin breathed, soft trembles running down his spine.

“I won’t deny it.”

Gavin turned to face Niles, obscuring his LED from view. He didn’t want it interfering again. “What were you gonna’ do today, when we were in the alley?” he asked, getting to the core of his worry.

“Something stupid, probably,” Niles said, his self-deprecation unappreciated by the android.

“Could you try and do it again?” Gavin asked, looking at the detective through his lashes, “please Niles.”

It was like a fire ignited in the detective and his lips were on Gavin’s seconds after the request.

They went slow and explored the boundaries of their partnership, going deeper, searching harder, until Niles was gasping for air and Gavin felt like he’d shut down.

It didn’t matter, because they tried again, this time frantic and needy, with Gavin wrapping his arms around the detective’s broad shoulders and Niles bringing one of the android’s legs around his hip. 

Niles paused for air again, hyperventilating against Gavin’s cheek, his eyes catching the red flashing of the LED. “Would you like to stop,” he asked after a deep breath, “your little light is blinking red.”

“I’m fine,” Gavin said through a laugh, reaching for the detective again, his heart filling with mechanical fondness.


End file.
